all the insults

stew inside

scalding rocks that

mock, deride

force fed

mouthfuls at a time

mountains subsume self

subsides

most of the time

i love words

but they have too much power

they can be so loud, deafening

they drown with sound and then resound over and over until I cannot see straight through the water walls descending, unrestrained from my rusty face faucets.

sometimes it feels like truth devours everything positive, reveals all the illusions that i was stupid enough to choose to get me through a few of the hours and hurtles me back into reality, stripped down to my scars and reminds me why silence was so appealing in the first place

taut heart strings tangling

tender aspirations bound

how do i break free?

#poetry #haiku #innerdemons

time and time again

you expect me to acquiesce

to your manic machinations

time and time again

i do

despite the dangers

deep in your thrall

conceding i deserve this

cognizant of the fact

that the first time

i do not

will be my last time

microscopic spark

cherished radiance

flickered, smoldered

an ember extinguished

in the void of might’ve been

It happens suddenly. Sometimes, I can sense the approach, other times I am blindsided. When it manifests in nightmares, the aftermath is intense and all-consuming. Fear, fervent, fierce. Screams accompanied by sobs and shaking, hyperventilation. Regaining consciousness does not release me from reliving the memories. My self-control spirals out of control. When my husband is there, his voice helps me to outrun the terror, reminds me that I am with someone safe, that the physical danger has passed. He is patient and steady and shows me how to find air. He breathes with me, out and in, until my chest is less constricted, my pulse less erratic.

When it manifests during the day, it is just as unpredictable, but more complicated. It must be concealed; I must maintain a calm facade. It is far too personal to broadcast, hard enough to manage without judgement. On good days, I am vigilant. I can rationalize and talk myself through the more vulnerable moments. Other days, uneasiness simply will not subside. I am raw, jumpy. Everything requires more concerted effort, and I am more susceptible to triggers, both external and internal.

At all times, it is a struggle. It permeates, but I will not allow it to saturate, I will not drown in it. I refuse to let my sense of self stay subverted. I could not control what happened then, could not stop any of it, could not run him off. But now, even on one of my worst days, I can fight for my freedom. The things that haunt me cannot hold me. It is in my hands now.